So easy a writer can do it!
In my mind, this project was going to be a true test of character. There’d be copious amounts of blood, sweat, and tears alongside broken boards and lacerated ankles. The path would be difficult, but victory so, so sweet.
I wish I could say this without sounding like a total douche, but I landed a superman on my second try. I know I said they were easy, but I honestly didn’t expect this result. Let me explain how it happened.
I paddled out to my local reef around eight AM. Due to a blustery south wind, which is considered “devil wind” by Morgan Dunn and Inertia co. but “air wind” to the rest of us, the lineup was empty. A mid-period northwest had graced our shores overnight resulting in wedgy right-handers that sprinted into the oncoming gales. In other words, a perfect aerial storm.
My first attempt was on a smaller wave. I got the pop, grab, and a little bit of extension, but by the time I tried to throw it back under me I had already descended past the point of possibility. I landed butt-first on my board and bounced around in the whitewash for a few seconds.
A failure, yes, but I did note how simple it had been to extract and replace the board underneath me. The wind helped tremendously as it kept the board close without much effort on my end. I figured if I could just get a little higher, there was a decent chance I’d be able to pull it off.
A few waves later I locked into a chunky double-up. It had that second-wave-of-the-set texture and girth, with a big side-wedge forming down the line. I’d estimate about head-high on takeoff.
It took only two pumps before I reached the ramp and was soaring (no more than two feet but certainly no less than one) above the lip with feet (slightly) disconnected from my board. I don’t have any photographic evidence, but for a realistic depiction, imagine a man using a grab bar to support himself whilst hovering over a toilet.
At that point I started my descent and threw the board haphazardly beneath my feet. Just before impact I released the grab and landed squarely atop the lip. Out of fear I leaned back slightly, but the explosion pushed me back over my board and within two seconds I had ridden past the whitewater.
This superman was more of a Clark Kent but dammit it was a make, even by WSL standards.
After landing I went straight for a few seconds, scouting my surroundings for any witnesses, but the old lady on the stairs looked entirely disinterested. I laughed to myself and paddled back out.
Believe me, I feel like the biggest piece of shit for even telling this story, but what am I gonna do, pretend it didn’t happen? On the bright side, this event has inspired me to try other new shit, because why not!
I think I’ll go for a Passion Pop next and then maybe cocaine. Will anyone here ‘fess up to the merits of prostate stimulation? I’m open to anything!
